


When I Am Dead I Won't Join Their Ranks

by woshuwoo



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Beetlejuice died human and becomes a ghost, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woshuwoo/pseuds/woshuwoo
Summary: In the months after Beetlejuice leaves for the Netherworld, the Deetz-Maitland family has begun to heal and adjust to their new life together. When Beetlejuice is suddenly thrust back into their lives, stripped of his powers and not nearly as well adjusted as everyone around him, the family must start this journey all over again.
Relationships: Adam Maitland/Barbara Maitland, Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice/Adam Maitland/Barbara Maitland, Charles Deetz/Delia Deetz
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Saint Bernard by Lincoln.

“Tell my storyyyyy!” He calls as his clones lift him through the door into the Netherworld. The moment he crosses over, the hands holding him up dissolve and he hits the ground hard.

“Ugh…” Beetlejuice groans, rubbing the back of his head as fog dances up around him. Inky blackness spreads around him for miles, only broken up by the sharp white juts of land sticking up from the ground that make the terrain both confusing and dangerous. He glares off into the distance where more stark white mountains grow. In the foreground of the dark landscape are three unmarked doors.

Beetlejuice has traveled through here so many times he doesn’t need to worry about choosing. One leads to the waiting room- not a great option seeing as he just killed their most popular case worker. The second leads to Saturn, where sandworms run wild. He thinks he’s had just about enough of that for one day. The last door looms before him as he picks himself up, dusting off his bloodied suit. Behind that door lies the Netherworld- the real one- where spirits and demons alike roam a reflection of their homes on Earth. He grabs the brass handle and pulls it open, stepping through.

When he emerges into the smoggy street, he’s bombarded by scent and sounds of death. Taxis cough black smoke into the air and spirits glide past him. He puts a hand up to his face, squashing his nose in and pulling down his chin a bit to prevent anyone in the crowd from recognizing him. He doesn’t have the energy for that right now. He makes his way through the streets by memory, shuffling around businesspeople and dog walkers. He doesn’t have a place of his own here, has never bothered to settle down anywhere once Juno all but kicked him out, but as a professional drifter he knows how to shack up in the city. Luckily for him, his last run around in the Netherworld had left him an empty apartment. Its previous owner, a saggy old ghost who had died of old age, had welcomed him in for a few nights a few decades back, and in thanks for her kindness he exorcised her on the spot. She’d deserved it, if the Nazi memorabilia he’d found in her guest closet had been anything to go by. He’d trashed her terrorism trophies and made himself at home until he had to head back to the surface for work. He’s grateful for this now as he shoulders open the rotating doors into the building's lobby. The doorman hums at him in greeting, not looking up from his crossword. The fingers of his severed arm lying next to him at the desk tap out a messy rhythm.

Taking the elevator up to a dizzying height, Beetlejuice finds the apartment and phases through the door. He might have a key somewhere in his old jacket, but what he doesn't have is the energy to search for it. It takes all he's got not to collapse on the couch the moment he passes into the living room. First, he has to take care of his murder. 

Trudging down the hall to the bathroom, Beetlejuice strips, leaving a trail of sparkling red fabric in his wake. Blood soaks through to his vest, his button up and under shirt clinging to his skin. When he yanks the last layer off in front of the bathroom mirror, he can't help but gag. In the center of his chest a gaping hole drips blood, the skin around the almost perfectly circular wound bruised a deep purple. He takes a deep breath, filling up his unused lungs and stretching his chest. As his muscles pull the skin around his wound, he can see straight through himself to the wall behind him.

Yuck.

Cool.

He holds out his hand to summon a suturing tool and… nothing happens. A flick of the wrist. Nothing. A snap? Still nothing. Beetlejuice grumbles, cursing himself. Perhaps he's just too worn out to perform his usual demonic tricks. With a sigh, he resigns himself to digging through the bathroom drawers in search of something to stitch himself up. Blood drops onto the floor, staining the white tiles. 

When the drawers turn up empty, he ransacks the rest of his dwelling, blood smudging on the walls and counters. Eventually he finds an elaborate sewing kit in the linen closet, snatching it up before making his way back to the bathroom.

"Sucks-yes!" He mumbles before frowning to himself. That Dana woman really got in his head, huh?

He uses black thread to stitch up his chest, going over the slash half a dozen times before the skin pulls together. The back is a different story, the stitches crossing over each other as he struggles to reach behind him. Another arm would be useful, but it seems he's more drained than he realized. He can hardly summon up the power to cut the lights when he eventually trudges into the bedroom and flops onto the bed.

A few days pass as he holes up in the apartment. He tries time and time again to use his powers, but he's weaker than he's ever been. He can still manipulate the world around him without touching it, can change his appearance a bit- but shapeshifting is out of the question and he hasn't even been able to muster up a clone. He's confused and annoyed, pain spasming in his chest from both his physical wound and his recent betrayal as he hides under the covers and ignores the Netherworld.

It's four days before he begins to get up and move. His lack of powers is getting to be a problem but he has no clue what to do about it. It's only as he's inspecting his chest that night, room dark save for the lights of the city that seep through the blinds, that he realizes.

He's a ghost.

It's like someone just dropped a building in his head. Like he got stabbed in the heart. Again.

When he married Lydia, he became human. A real human being, a person. And when human's die, they become ghosts. He can't use his demon powers because he isn't a demon. 

"Fuck!" He shouts, pulling at his hair. In the mirror his reflection is mottled blue and red, anger and confusion mingling together.

Never in his entire afterlife has he felt so damn powerless. He has no clue how to fix this, if he even can. 

But…

All ghosts must proceed directly to the Netherworld. 

In reality, it's pretty simple. You die. You go to the Netherworld. You read your handbook and wait for someone to tell you what the hell is going on, be it your caseworker or-

A secretary. 

Of course! If anyone knows how to fix this, it's Miss Argentina. 

Shoving the covers off himself, Beetlejuice leaps out of bed, snatching up his suit jacket as he makes for the front door. It will be okay. 

Hope swells in his chest as he takes to the streets, weaving between ghosts with ease. The ark streets are still bustling even this late. Whoever said you can sleep when you die was dead wrong. Traversing across the city to where he entered from, he finds the door to the portal that will take him to the waiting room and is through without a second thought. He emerges in a dank little room lined with seats, all occupied by various ghosts. At the other end of the room by the front desk is the detector. It beeps and flashes green as a ghost slips through, headed to the back to see their case worker. 

No one is standing at the desk, so Beetlejuice jogs up to it and taps quickly on the glass. The reflection from the fluorescent lights sting his eyes. The window slips open after a moment and Beetlejuice feels a grin break out over his face. “Argie!” He exclaims, relief flooding him. “I need your help, Arg, I’ve lost my-”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Miss Argentina hisses, whipping her head around to survey the room. “You can not be here, Lawrence, absolutely not!”

“What? A, c’mon! I know I haven’t come to visit in a bit but I figured my welcome would be a little warmer.” He chuckles, but she just looks horrified as she tumbles out of her office chair and disappears, the window slamming shut. Beetlejuice shifts nervously from foot to foot as a ghost peers over their newspaper at him. He gives them a fang filled grimace that has their eyes widening in fear.

Suddenly, Miss A is tottering through the detector and grabbing his arm. “Lawrence are you out of your mind! Get back here, we need to get you out of here now.” He doesn’t have time to question her before she’s dragging him bodily through the detector, its green light flashing as he passes through, alerting the room to his ghostly status. A few ghosts shout their disapproval that he’s skipping the line, but Miss A ignores them. She opens the door to her office on the other side and ushers him into it.

“Arge, what’s going on? I need to talk to you about something. That house I was staking out turned out to be bad freaking news. It’s a long story but basically I got revived up top! But I uh… ran into a little bit of a dying problem. I haven’t got a single demon power. I think I’m a damn ghost! I can barely do anything and it’s driving me nuts. Ya gotta help me get my mojo back.”

“You think I don’t know that, Lawrence? Your mama put a bounty out for you, mijo.”

The shock hits him so fast he sways on his feet. “Wh- what? Mom’s back already?”

“From what I heard she sliced her way out of the belly of that beast you put her in. And she is mad. You can not stay here, diablito. The whole Netherworld is after you.” She pushes her bangs out of her face, eyes flicking between the door and window as if she expects Juno to burst in at any second.

Beetlejuice is silent for a moment, eyes unfocused as he stares ahead of him. His mom beat him again, and quickly too. And now she might actually have incentive to ruin him for good. “Wh- where am I supposed to go? I’m a ghost now, A, I can’t go to the overworld.”

“You have to go back to where you died, Baby. It’s the only place outside the Netherworld we can keep you right now.”

“WHAT?” Beetlejuice stumbles back, fear clawing at his chest. “Absolutely not. They killed me, Arg. I can’t go back there… They wouldn’t let me.” He adds quietly. 

“You don’t really have another choice.” Miss Argentina says softly. She reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring rub. She steps back and opens a drawer at her desk, rummaging around until she pulls out a piece of chalk.

“No.” Beetlejuice whispers, heart beginning to hammer harder- and since when does that happen? Stupid fucking human side effects. “Argie I can NOT go back. Please, PLEASE” He continues to beg even as she draws him a door against the brick. His vision begins to become blurred by tears. He tries to resist when she takes his hand, but the way she rubs her thumb over his knuckles makes him slump. “I can’t do it.” He whispers to himself. And then he falls through the door.

-

Lydia is sat on the ground in front of the couch, poking carefully at her embroidery hoop with a long purple thread as she builds up a tall peony plant against the fabric. Moonlight sifts through the curtains, just barely lighting up her project. The clock on the mantle ticks soothingly.

It’s late, a hazy blanket of sleepy has settled over her as she works. Suddenly the quiet is broken by a bright humming and a flash green light erupts behind her. Lydia drops her needle and hits the ground before she even realizes what’s happened, heart hammering. Hiding in front of the couch and shielded from the view of the large expanse between her and the dining room, Lydia hears a whining creak and… voices?

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, mijo. I promise.” A woman’s voice says and Lydia begins to slowly rise up. When her eyes peek up over the back of the couch, she has to slap a hand over her mouth to stop her gasp.

Beetlejuice is in her living room.

He’s still wearing the suit. His wedding suit.

He’s… crying?

“Argie, please, you can’t leave me here. They hate me, they aren’t going to let me stay.” Beetlejuice is clutching the woman's shockingly blue arm, his hair a swirling mess of color. Blues, purples, and yellows swirl messily through his hair. Lydia can only imagine how upset he is to have it look so out of control. “They killed me. She killed-” He interrupts himself with a sob. “They aren’t going to care about my mother, A. They’ll send me back. I’d rather face Juno than that. Please don’t do this.”

The woman sighs sadly, and wraps her free hand over Beetlejuice’s. “You don’t mean that. It won’t be that long, not even a few human months. You’re going to be okay.” She gently pries his fingers open and away from her. “I have to get back to the office before someone notices I’m gone, Lawrence. I love you. You’ll be okay.” With that, she brings his clenched hand up to her mouth and kisses it. Fresh tears blur his eyes as she steps back through the door. It closes behind her, sealing with one last shimmer of light and leaving no evidence that it was ever even there. 

In the dark and silence after the door is gone, Beetlejuice gapes at the empty space in front of him. With a shaking breath, Lydia clutches the cushions of the couch, using them to pull herself up to stand.

“Beetlejuice?” She says quietly, voice unsteady.

His head whips around to look at her. “I-” he starts, taking a fearful step away from her.

Whatever either of them might have said is useless, then, as the lights above them flick on.


	2. Chapter 2

”WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” 

Without even a moment to let her eyes adjust to the light, her father is shouting. 

“Charles, darling, what’s going on?” Delia pokes her head out from the top of the stairs and gasps. “Oh dear.” She runs down the stairs, her sheer, fur lined robe flouncing around her. 

Charles advances towards Beetlejuice, and the demon isn’t moving. Suddenly afraid for his safety, Lyia vaults over the back of the couch. “Dad, wait!” she calls, sliding between them and holding her hands up in a placating gesture.

“Lydia” Her father hisses, stopping in front of her. “Please move.”

“Not until you promise you won’t hurt him!” She pleads. His jaw tenses.

He looks over head to where Beetlejuice stands. “You need to leave. Now.”

Beetlejuice shrinks under his gaze. “I can’t.” He whispers.

“What the hell do you mean you can’t?”

Beetlejuice is silent. “God Damnit! Why are you here?” Charles shouts.

“I-” Beetlejuice starts, but is interrupted by questioning voices from the stairs. 

Adam appears on the landing, Barbara following close behind. “We heard shouting. Is everyone alright?” She asks, before they both stop cold. Beetlejuice whips around to stare at them and when Lydia takes her eyes off her father she can see her friend's hands shaking. 

“Beetlejuice?” Adam says, sounding out of breath. A shudder runs through the demon upon hearing his name.

Apparently fed up with not having answers, Charles steps around his daughter. “You need to tell me why the hell you’re here dammit. You need to get the hell ou-’ Charles reaches for Beetlejuice’s shoulder to pull him back to face him, but his hand phases right through the demon. “What?”

Beetlejuice jumps back at the intrusion, reaching up to cup his arm. Lydia’s brow furrows, confused. She’d always been able to touch Beetlejuice. It was one of the perks of his demonity, something ghosts like the Maitlands couldn’t do.

“Beetlejuice, what happened?” Lydia asks, stepping forward.

The demon shudders again. “Can we… not with the name right now? It’s kinda overwhelming.”

“Sorry… uh Beej? Is that better?”

“I am not calling him that.” Delia pipes up. Lydia rolls her eyes.

“My first name is Lawrence.” Beetlejuice reminds them, avoiding their eyes. 

“Right then, Lawrence” Charles says harshly, “Why are you here?”

Beetlejuice seems to steel himself with a deep breath and all of a sudden he’s like his old self again. “Listen, grandpa, I don’t wanna be here anymore than you want me here. Not exactly the warmest memory, getting murdered. But…” He falters, shoulders slumping. “I fucked up killing my mom. I shoulda known better than- Anyways, she made her way back and is after my hide. Under normal circumstances, I’d just spend a few decades drifting in Breather-ville, see the sights, maybe visit an old fling. But when I… died, I was human. Dead humans don’t get the demonic perks that would let me high tail it outta here. Ghosts can’t leave the places they died.”

“...You’re a ghost?” Adam is the first to speak.

“Yup.” Beetlejuice replies, popping the p.

“Listen here, you beast. I don’t care if you have an army after you, you can not stay here.” Charles is still glaring.

“Dad!” Lydia cries. “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go!”

“No, Lydia. We can’t just throw away all the progress we’ve made as a family by inviting him back here.”

“Delia, tell him.” Lydia pleads, turning to her step-mother.

Delia makes a pained face, hissing out a breath. “Well... I don’t really think-”

“Are you SERIOUS? Is no one else on our side here?”

“It might… not be the best idea but… you all saw his mother. She was such a horribly nasty woman.” Barbara steps toward Beetlejuice, reaching out to him. Her ghostly hand doesn’t slide through. “Sending him back wouldn’t be safe. Right, Adam?”

“I don’t know, dear. Lydia’s been doing so well with her therapist. We can’t just risk him undoing all that.” Adam says sadly.

“He wouldn’t! I can handle myself.” The insinuation of her weakness infuriates Lydia.

“It seems to me like he doesn’t even want to stay. Isn’t that right, Beetlej- Beej?” Adam asks.

“Listen I understand the hesitation. I’m not exactly hyped at the idea either. The wound is still fresh, quite literally. I’d walk right back into the Netherworld now if I didn’t know the second I passed over Argie wouldn’t be kicking me back across the threshold. You’re kinda my only option.” Beetlejuice fiddles with his vest button as he speaks. When his fingers come away bloody, he wipes them quickly on his pants, swallowing hard and praying the room full of people staring at him don’t notice. Of course he isn’t that lucky.

“Beej…” Lydia says slowly, taking a step towards him. “Why are you still wearing that?”

“Forgive me, kid, but I don’t know quite how long it’s been since… everything. Time passes differently, yaknow. Have you been without me long?”

“It’s been four months.” 

Beetlejuice blanches. He should’ve expected it really with how cool everyone- well, almost everyone- was with him being anywhere near them. Unfortunately for him, that means he’s the only one in the room who hasn’t even started to move on. He laughs nervously. “Hoo boy that’s… funny. Pretty close to my timeline, too, actually I just hit the four day mark.” He speaks quickly, a small part of him hoping to just breeze past it and move on.

“Four DAYS?” Surprisingly, it’s Delia that pipes up. “No wonder you’re so jumpy.”

“I feel like I should take offense to that.” Beetlejuice grumbles. Delia ignores his comment and slips between Lydia and Charles, ushering him to sit at the dining table. She takes a seat across from him, crossing her legs and leaning forward to catch his eye.

“I just mean you haven’t even had time to process everything that happened. A while ago I might have doubted you even cared, but we’ve talked over those days with Lydia so many times I realize you were invested in the haunting too. And while I stand by Lydia’s decision to… take matter into her own hands, I realize how you might feel… betrayed.” Her gaze makes Beetlejuice uncomfortable. No one has ever tried to understand his feelings.

Beetlejuice is silent, at a loss for words. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Yeah, you kinda stabbed me in the back there, Lyds.” He’s aiming for humor but it falls flat.

“Beej, I’m sorry. For real. I know that doesn’t just make everything go away but…” Lydia sighs. “We both did some pretty messed up stuff to each other. But I’m at a point right now where having you around won’t upset me. To be honest, I really missed you.” She glances up at her father self consciously at this admission. “I want you to stay, Beej. Maybe we can work on feeling better together?”

“I’m not really into that whole therapy thing, kid.” Beetlejuice says.

From behind them, Adam grumbles, “Oh we know.”

Lydia turns in her chair. “Dad, I want him to stay. If I was allowed to move on, why can’t he? And we do kind of owe him a little something after we… uh…” She pauses, not wanting to once again bring up his murder.

Charles sighs and looks to Delia. “What do you think, Love?”

Delia pats Beetlejuice’s hand where it sits on the table and doesn’t even pull away when her hand slips through him like fog and lands on the table. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

Charles is silent for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek as he surveys the scene in front of him. “Fine, I give in. But you listen to me, Lawrence, one toe out of line and I will throw you back where you came from myself, understood?”

Beetlejuice baulks, blinking up at him. He kind of still expected them to toss him out the door and let sandworms take care of him. “I- Okay. Uh… Thank you?”

“Can I show him the guest room, daddy?” Lydia asks, suddenly excited and looking completely like the child Beetlejuice sometimes forgets she is.

Charles hesitates, looking between them. Barbara moves to stand next to him and speaks up. “We’ll go too, Charles. He’ll probably need help settling now that he’s a ghost. You two get some sleep, you need it.”

Charles sighs and reaches out, ruffling Lydia’s hair. “Alright, kiddo. Come get me if you need anything.” He kisses her head. “I love you.”

“Love you, dad.” She says, rolling her eyes. 

Delia gives a little grin and a wave, tottering after Charles back up the stairs and leaving the four of them alone.  
-

“Just like old times, huh?” Beetlejuice quips awkwardly.

“Let’s go upstairs, Beetlejuice.” Barbara sighs. He shivers when she uses his name.

“Okay, Beej, we can show you the extra bedroom and Adam and Barb figured out how to make ghost clothes! Which is crazy so they can totally get some for you, right guys? Anyways I dunno if you sleep but, like, the bedroom has a bathroom and the beds really comfy.” Lydia bounds up the stairs, obviously excited. The Maitland’s wait for Beetlejuice to follow her and he trudges behind her.

The upstairs hall is dark save for the light still on at the end of the hallway, Delia and Charles’ hushed voices barely heard behind the door. Beetlejuice realizes he hasn’t been up here since he’d been watching the Maitlands, having moved from the living room to the attic mostly by floating through the floor.

When he pauses to look around, Barbara bumps into his back with a huff. “Beej, gosh, what was that?” 

“Huh? Oh just… looks different is all.” He says, picking his feet up again and rushing forward.

“No it doesn’t.” Lydia laughs. “Delia’s a nut for redecorating but it’s just a hallway.”

“Nah I meant from when those two ran the show.” He says, jabbing a thumb behind him. 

“How in the world do you know what our house looked like?” Adam scoffs.

Beetlejuice rolls his eyes. “You think I just popped into existence the moment you dummies died? I’d been working! Watching, waiting, rehearsing musical numbers.”

Barbara makes an aghast sound. “You were spying on us? How much did you see?”

“Babs, hun, you’re not gonna like the answer to that question.” Beetlejuice looks at her over his shoulder with a grin, which she sneers at.

Adam coughs awkwardly and steps around them. “I’m gonna go grab him some clothes, I’ll be back.”

Back in front of him, Lydia opens a tall door and flips on the light of the guest room. It’s nice, simple and clean with a dark wood bed set and pale purple walls. “Okay, Beej, here we go. I know ghosts don’t technically need it but there’s a bathroom right there,” She points to a door on the far wall, “and my room is right next door! You should probably take some time to rest but tomorrow we can hang out! The bed’s super comfy,” She says, making a running jump for it. She bounces as she lands and smiles up at him once she rights herself

It makes his chest hurt.

“Ow-” He whispers, caught off guard.

“You okay?” Barbara asks, touching his shoulder gently.

Beetlejuice laughs, attempting to deflect, but his nerves must show on his face. “Uh yeah, it's smooth sailing I’m just… not used to the leftover emotions from being human.”

“What are you feeling?” She asks.

“Uhh…”

“The weird feelings never gonna go away if you don’t talk about them.” She gives him a look that he can’t decipher.

Beetlejuice sighs. “I don’t really know what it was. It just felt kinda… chest clenchy. When I…” He pauses, eyes flitting back over to Lydia, who’s looking back at him curiously. “Nevermind.”

Barbara sighs and gives him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “Let’s get you ready for bed, Beej.”

Beetlejuice just nods absently. Adam comes back with a pile of clothes, smiling brightly at him. “Hey, Beetlej- Beej. Barbara and I didn’t have anything that would fit you but I asked Charles and got you some stuff.” He holds up a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. “We figured this out a while ago, check it out.” He pulls a pair of scissors from his back pocket and snips a hole in the neck of the shirt and the ankle of the pants. The garments flash with a small shimmer that Beetlejuice instinctively knows is not visible to the human eye and Adam holds out the ensemble for Beetlejuice. “They’re ghost clothes!” He says proudly.

The look on his face is so bright and sweet that Beetlejuice feels himself melt a little. Gross. He snatches the clothes away with a glare to make up for it. “Ghost clothes?” He scoffs.

“When pursuing our handbook a bit more, I found a passage about the spirits of items, like clothes and books. Turns out, if you “kill” an object, they’ll have a ghostly counterpart. I tested out how lenient the standards were for what counted as killing stuff and found out that making a clothing item feasibly unwearable will make it ghostly enough for us to use it! Awesome, right?” 

Beetlejuice holds the shirt in front of his chest like he’s sizing it up against himself. “Hm…” He had no idea that could happen. Best not to tell Adam that though, wouldn’t want to boost his ego.

Beetlejuice stands awkwardly for a moment with the clothing draped in front of him, eyes darting between the three people all staring at him. “Do you guys… mind?” He says finally, fabric clenched in his hands.

“OH! Sorry.” Lydia says, scrambling off the bed. “Uh yeah, cool, uh… Goodnight, Beetlejuice. I’ll see you tomorrow?” She says the last part with a strange flicker of hope in her voice, like she doesn’t truly believe it and desperately wants him to confirm it. 

“Yeah, kid, sure thing.” He says. His chest does that clenching thing again.

“Okay, Beej, Goodnight,” Barbara says. She rubs his shoulder again and really the contact would usually put him off but right about now he almost leans into the touch. It’s the only one he’s likely to get for a while since they’re the only other ghosts around. But he doesn’t, instead staying deathly still under her touch.

“Goodnight.” Adam says, nodding to him. He takes Barbara’s other hand and squeezes, leading her to the door. 

When they finally leave, the room is quiet. Horribly so. Beetlejuice stares at the closed door behind them, not sure if he wishes for them to come back or stay away. He sighs heavily and looks down at the clothing in his hands. 

_Guess I’d better change._

He steps into the bathroom, setting the pajamas onto the counter and looking into his reflection. His hair is back to green and his skin is pale and ghostly, the bags under his eyes resembling bruises. With a slow hand, he reaches for his vest, unbuttoning it and pulling it off, followed by his shirt. They fall to the ground in a heap. In his reflection, the wound against his chest looks ghastly. There’s still a few centimeters of flesh showing in the center where the skin wasn’t pulled fully together. Dried blood flakes off of his skin when he brushes his fingers against it, floating to land on the floor and counter and leaving copper stains against the tile. He feels no pain when he prods at the flesh, just a disconnected sense of disgust and horror. When he pulls the shirt over his head, you can see the faint outline of the raised stitches, but at least it’s dry enough not to stain the white fabric with blood.

He’s a ghost now, so technically things like showering are useless and ineffective. When he leaves the bathroom, his clothes abandoned in a pile, he stares at the bed a moment, unable to get in. It’s obviously lush- Lydia had sunken into it the moment she’d touched it- and Beetlejuice feels a confusing sense of unworthiness at the idea of such a comfort. He decides to flick the light out before braving the bed. 

In the end, as he stares at it again in the dark, he can’t do it. He feels out of place and dirty, like he’s leaving a trail of blood behind him as he goes.

On the opposite wall there’s a desk, tucked into the corner, and it’s really just what he needs right now. Pulling the chair out, he climbs under it and curls up on his side, back pressed against the wall. He can see the whole room from here, and he feels safe and secure tucked up under it. 

Pulling his suit jacket over his torso as a blanket, he sighs and closes his eyes. As a demon, he did not indulge in the useless hobby of sleeping often, and he knows that even now as a ghost he doesn’t need to do it. But the idea of not thinking for a few hours is quite literally ideal, so he forces his body to relax and focus on the soft, quiet dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! thank u so much to everyone who's reading this. to be completely honest, im not very good at responding to comments bc i feel awkward hgfjsjkg but please know that i read them all a dozen times over and they make me feel very fulfilled and inspired. thank you for the positive feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

For the first time, most likely ever, Beetlejuice rises with the sun. He’d spent his fair share of years hibernating when he was too disinterested in the world at the time, but that was nothing like now. Usually he’d emerge from the ether refreshed and raring to go. Now, he feels groggy and disoriented, sitting up too fast and sending the top half of his head through the desk.

He grumbles at the intrusion and rolls out from his hiding place, scrabbling from his knees to his feet. His wound itches something fierce, pulsing insistently as if to purposely remind him of its presence.

For a few moments, Beetlejuice just stands in the darkness of his borrowed bedroom. He can sense Lydia’s presence next door, the other two human’s a bit more distantly. 

The house is eerily quiet as he creeps from his room. He stands outside of Lydia’s door, trying to gauge whether or not she’s awake simply by ear. When he’s unsuccessful, he focuses all his energy into the presence of his balled fist and raps his knuckles lightly on the door.

No response.

He waits a moment and tries again, but this time his fist falls through the door. Apparently he’d wasted any magical energy he’d accumulated on a knock. Great.

Choosing instead to wander the halls, Beetlejuice haunts the Deetz home for the second time. He floats down the stairs into the living room, surveying the rooms he’d once ruled over with Lydia. 

The memory of dancing with her, of bouncing off the walls and seeping energy from every poor schmuck who came to the door almost brings him to his knees with both fondness and regret. For the first time in his many years of haunting, Beetlejuice had felt elated. He truly believed that Lydia was there for him, that they had shared a goal.

But he’d just been a stepping stone for her. Someone to use to get what she wanted.

Balling his fists, Beetlejuice attempts to tap down on his anger. His feelings towards Lydia- towards all of them, really- are confusing. He’d loved her, then he’d hated her, then he’d been afraid of her. He has enough sense to realize that the way he’d acted was atrocious by human standards, but she hadn’t needed to do all of that to him. It’s difficult to not assume she won’t turn on him again. The thought makes his skin crawl with paranoia.

She had seemed happy to take him in, but what if he screws up? What if he overstays his welcome, or makes a wrong move and she betrays him again? Sends him back to the Netherworld, sics his mother on him. Beetlejuice feels dizzy with fear.

He’d just have to be on his best behavior. It’d be difficult, of course, to fight his nature. He’d always been loud, quick to anger and easily bored, always searching for entertainment, for stimulation. But he’d done it before. It was how he’d made it through death with his mother. 

_Don’t talk back. Sit still. Be polite. ___

__He shuddered. It was going to be horrible._ _

__He takes a moment to snoop through the living room, opening cupboard drawers and poking the ashes in the fireplace. He finds a sewing needle under the couch but can’t pick it up. Sighing heavily, he floats on his back in the middle of the room._ _

__Being on his best behavior was so _boring _.___ _

____“Oh good morning, Beetlejuice.”_ _ _ _

____With a start, Beetlejuice flips over to face the speaker. Barbara chuckles at his midair twirling from where she’s making her way down the stairs. Why either Maitland still chooses to walk is beyond him._ _ _ _

____Barbara is bundled in a light green robe, cottony and soft, with her hair twisted into a bun. Stray locs curl gently around her face. She looks very sexy._ _ _ _

____“What are you doing up so early?” She asks when Beetlejuice doesn’t answer her greeting._ _ _ _

____“Uhh…” He says, following her into the kitchen._ _ _ _

____“How did you sleep?” She tries._ _ _ _

____“What? Oh, I don’t really do that, I just kinda… check out. Wait- do you guys sleep? You’re ghosts! You don’t have to do that shit.”_ _ _ _

____Barbara holds the kitchen door open for him as they enter. “Well we don’t sleep like we used to, of course. It’s more like… meditating. It’s not the same, but it feels familiar so, yes, we do it.” She begins to putter about, grabbing bowls from the cabinets. “Adam will be down in a few minutes, we’re making breakfast.”_ _ _ _

____Again, Beetlejuice is confused. “Why? You can’t eat.”_ _ _ _

____Barbara sighs at his bluntness. “Well, no, but Adam and I both enjoy cooking. It reminds us of our life and gives us something to do. Plus, there’s three humans in the house that can eat, remember?”_ _ _ _

____Beetlejuice _hmm _’s. Of course those two would be the type to cook a meal they’d never be able to eat just to give it away. Their generosity confuses him.___ _ _ _

______Beetlejuice hovers above the countertop, getting close enough to create the illusion that he’s sitting on it. Barbara rolls her eyes when she sees his performance, skirting around him to pull a bag of flour from the pantry._ _ _ _ _ _

______When Adam finally trudges through the doorway, Barbara has already dumped a few ingredients in a large bowl. Beetlejuice can’t tell what she’s making yet._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You started already?” Adam asks, rubbing his eyes under his glasses._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You were up there for ages, lazy bones.” Barbara laughs, not looking back at him in favor of cracking an egg into the flour._ _ _ _ _ _

______Adam sidles up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. She sighs, smiling softly, before remembering the kitchen isn’t empty. “Oh, Adam, honey we have company.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Adam jumps back, whirling around to see Beetlejuice’s shit eating grin. No, no don’t mind me, carry on you two.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Jesus.” Adam mumbles, leaning back against the counter. Barbara pats his shoulder in support as Beetlejuice cackles._ _ _ _ _ _

______Adam leans into her touch for a moment before pushing off the counter. Pulling a carton of strawberries from the fridge he sets about rinsing and slicing them. Beetlejuice is not too proud to admit that seeing them in such total control of what they touch makes him burn with envy._ _ _ _ _ _

______Attempting to push those thoughts away, he floats above Barbara, swiping a finger through the mixture in her bowl._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What’re you two even making anyway?” His finger comes away free of batter, but he pops it into his mouth all the same, going for obnoxious._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Pancakes. Lydia loves them, we figured a nice breakfast together would help us all… come to terms with our situation.” Barbara swats him away gently._ _ _ _ _ _

______Beetlejuice frowns at her words. He doesn’t like the thought of sitting round the table getting stared at and asked questions about why he’s here, why he did all the shit he did months ago._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Am I gonna have to talk about my _feelings _?” He says acridly.___ _ _ _ _ _

________Adam scoffs, brandishing his knife at him. “You’d do well with some feelings-talk, Beej. Emotions aren’t something to be afraid of. It’s good to let yourself feel things, helps you understand yourself and your actions better.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Beetlejuice’s lip curls in disgust. “Whatever, A-Dog. You can psychoanalyze me all you want, I’m still gonna be a fucking train wreck.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Adam’s smirk falls off his face at that. “Beej, no, I know it might feel strange here but we want to help you. You’re not-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yaknow what? I’m gonna go. I can not do love and support right now.” Beetlejuice says with a grimace, pushing away from the couple towards the door. “Have fun in domestic bliss down here I’m gonna-” He can’t think of a joke. Shit. “Go… I’m gonna go.” He finishes lamely._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The kitchen door shuts behind him as he makes his escape._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Satan that was embarrassing. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It was nice at first, poking fun at them. But then they’d gone all “it’s okay to be upset” and “let us help you” on him and he’d shut down. He can’t begin to think of how he’s going to get through breakfast._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His instinct says to run, to push them all away with rude comments and raunchy jokes. Make enough noise that they can’t focus on anything but his distractions. But he knows he can’t get away with that here. It disgusts him that the Maitland's seem to think they know his psyche. He feels weak and seen and- blegh. It’s gross._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________And it’s only going to get worse. He has nowhere to go, no other choice but to let a house full of emotionally intelligent people poke and prod at him until his shitty life story spews out for them to wade through like they’re vacationing Lake Trauma- The Saddest Summer Camp This Side Of The Mortal Plane._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Resigning himself to his fate, Beetlejuice settles in the dining room. He looks out across the living room that he’s seen so many iterations of. If he crosses his eyes he can imagine the door to the Netherworld glowing open on the wall._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________What he wouldn’t give to run right back through it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
